


two halves of one

by philindas



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, fluff and sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 06:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11983662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindas/pseuds/philindas
Summary: Five times Melinda May only had eyes for Phil Coulson, and one time she didn't.





	two halves of one

**Author's Note:**

> Ming at Dragoncon today killed me and she said that May "only has eyes for Coulson" so this fic was inevitable. Thanks to Toni for letting me write it! Predictably fluffy. Title from an ee cummings poem.

I.

“Cadet May. _Cadet May_ are you with us yet?”

Melinda sits up straight in her seat, feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“Thank you. Now pay attention to the board, please,” Director Carter gives her a raised eyebrow before she launches back into her lecture, and Melinda sinks back down into her chair.

The first week of classes, and she’s distracted by a _boy_.

Her mother was going to kill her.

But he was blonde and cute and from what she could see he had this crooked little half-smile and blue eyes that were as bright as the river near her mother’s house. And he was obviously good enough to get into SHIELD which ranked him pretty high in her books.

She’s staring again when she realizes he’s answering a question, and Director Carter smiles.

“Excellent, Cadet Coulson.”

 _Coulson_ , Melinda thinks, tapping her pencil against her chin. _Not a bad name_.

II.

“Damn,” she whispers under her breath, unable to help herself. Saulsalito is warm and sunny and the red dress she’s wearing has the most daring slit down the thigh and heels she hates. But it also means Phil in _that_ suit with a few buttons undone and black pants that make his ass look even more phenomenal than usual.

“Nice dress,” Phil compliments, nodding towards the deep v with a small smirk, and Melinda rolls her eyes, adjusting the fabric.

“The undone buttons your idea?” she asks, pointing to his collar, and he glances down before he shakes his head. “Fury thought it would be a good idea. Said it makes me look like I have money.”

Melinda laughs, shaking her head as she adjusts her mic and throws her wrap around herself. “I think that’s what I’m for.”

Phil rolls his eyes and leads the way out of the room, and Melinda lets her gaze drop as she follows him out.

III.

She doesn’t like people in her workspace. She transferred to Administration to get away from people, so when she hears the footsteps, her spine stiffens automatically.

But then it’s his voice speaking, and even though her mouth says no, every bone in her body wants to touch him- to _feel_ that he was alive, under her fingertips. Instead she flirts- she banters, like always.

 But the whole time, Melinda kept her eyes on him, unable to look away. All she could do was soak up his presence with her eyes; rememorize the way his shoulders sloped a little bit when he put his hands in his pockets and the lines under his eyes that seemed to be increasing every time she saw him.

(She couldn’t help but wonder how many of those she’d caused.)

She watches him walk away, eyes on his familiar gait, and knew keeping Fury’s secret locked away was even more important than before.

IV.

He is home, on Earth, back with her, and she cannot take her eyes off of him.

Phil looks exhausted- there is scruff on his cheeks, thick enough for her to run her fingers through, and dark circles ring his eyes. But his lips curl into a small smile at the sight of her, and as his arms extend she knows the only place she belongs is in them.

Melinda steps forward, and inhales deeply as Phil envelops her in a tight hug, pressing her to his chest. He’s warm and solid against her, heart thumping steadily in his chest, and she opens her eyes to look at his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and she lifts her fingers to brush over it, the stubble scratching at her skin.

“You’re home,” she whispers, both hands cupping his cheeks, smiling at the bristles against her palms. Phil nods, leaning into her touch, and Melinda can’t tear her eyes from his.

“I’m home,” he whispers, hands squeezing her hips.

The kids chatter behind them, but Melinda can’t find it in herself to care. Phil was back, he was here, and she could stop searching for him after so long.

V.

It’s not a big affair- them, their team, her parents. She wears white, and Daisy’s insistence and Jemma’s pregnancy hormones, but doesn’t cave on no heels.

It’s merely an official record of feelings they’ve known for a long, long time. But it feels nice, to share it with the people they love that have become their family, and Melinda likes seeing a ring she picked out settled on Phil’s left hand. A small gold band that signifies too many decades of wrong timing and missed opportunities but leading to a marriage they both cherished.

“You look beautiful,” she’s pulled from her thoughts by Phil’s low voice, and she smiles, pulling her head from its place on his shoulder. They sway a little more, the music softening as another love song starts, and Phil holds her a little tighter against him.

“You look very handsome yourself,” she tells him, stroking her hand down his face, smiling at the way his gaze lingered on the new rings settled on her own left hand.

“Tonight was perfect,” he murmurs, and Melinda nods, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him softly, savoring his mouth on hers. “I’m so happy you married me.”

The smile slid onto Melinda’s face and grew until she laughed softly, shaking her head and kissing him again, arms around his neck and nose brushing his.

“I’m happy I married you too,” she whispers softly like a confession, and Phil chuckles, low in his chest.

VI.

“I brought you some food,” Phil says softly as he enters the room, and Melinda nods, but doesn’t look up. Phil smiles, shrugging out of his jacket and walking over to her, leaning down. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“No, not really,” Melinda answers, still not lifting her gaze, lips curled into a small smile. “I just sat and stared for a while.”

“Understandable,” Phil replied, kissing Melinda’s forehead before leaning forward and pressing his lips to their daughter’s. “We made a pretty cute kid.”

“She’s perfect,” Melinda whispered, stroking her fingers over tiny pink knuckles. “The most perfect thing in the entire universe Phil. And we made her.”

“We always have been pretty good partners,” he tells her, kissing her hair again, and Melinda smiles, leaning into him as the baby squirms, sighing sleepily as she’s adjusted.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just Mom and Dad,” Melinda soothes her as dark eyes blink open to observe them before the baby yawns and her eyes slip shut once more as she snuggles into Melinda’s chest and drifts off.

“Already bored of us,” Phil jokes, and Melinda smiles, eyes fixed on the infant in her arms as she watched her sleep. “Hungry yet?”

“No, I’m good to just watch her for a bit,” Melinda answered, and Phil smiled, kissing her cheek before he settled in the chair beside her bed, content to do his own watching over of his girls.


End file.
